


1000 Words or Less

by LittlexNightingale



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Awkward Romance, Blood and Violence, Bullying, F/M, Teasing, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 08:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15659925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlexNightingale/pseuds/LittlexNightingale
Summary: A series of Ficlets that center around Evelyn's unhealthy relationship with Henry Bowers.





	1. The Best

**Author's Note:**

> I write these regularly on Tumblr, but if you have a request for one, I'm open to them.

“This yer idea of a joke?”

Evelyn spared a glance at Henry; her focused attention on the writing assignment she needed to have done before the end of class fell short of interest. She watched her boyfriend tap his pencil like a drumstick; the same generic number 2 she allowed him to borrow at the start of the class.

“Gotta elaborate, handsome.” She leaned closer so to keep the conversation private; Hockstetter was a seat behind her and more than likely eavesdropping. Evelyn swore Henry muttered an insult at her.

“You are the best,” he stated dryly. The pencil was one of many Evelyn wrote on. She cracked a smile; he was moody.

“I mean no offense, baby. It’s somethin’ I did in art.” She flashed her own to him; the words you are creative were painted across the wood. The pencil case in her bag held around 20 more, each with different inspirational quotes. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t planned it. “Like it? I could have given ya one of the others, but none of ‘em suited ya well enough.”

Crack! Henry snapped the wood in two. “That it? Ya can’t think of one better for me?”

Evelyn grunted in annoyance as she watched him toss the pieces at some unfortunate student across the room.

_For fuck’s sake. Can’t imagine how he’d react to the ‘I love you’ one._


	2. Video Games

For someone who described herself as a mature and well-mannered person, Evelyn was sure a hypocrite. She couldn’t control her urges around Henry; her fingers were itching to come into contact with his sturdy body. The restless teen didn’t care if he smelled unpleasant - Henry had been spreading hay all morning to her knowledge. No, she loved the way his sun warmed skin felt beneath the soft pad of her fingers. Henry was damp with sweat, but she didn’t mind. Only problem was, he did.

Henry told her not to be all over him - he was roasting, she recalled him saying. Yet, he couldn’t be; not in the aired confines of her bedroom. Evelyn assumed he was just visiting to get out of doing his chores, or to play _Donkey Kong_ on her NES. Either way, he was ignoring his lady and when bored, Evelyn annoyed him.

At first, it was a gentle tug of his messy hair. Henry ignored it; her fingernails against his scalp felt oddly comforting. He continued to move the pudgy jumper over barrels and relaxed his shoulders as Eve trailed her fingers down the back of his neck, following his spine. A shiver coursed through him like snare, but still he paid her no mind.

Evelyn huffed in annoyance. She wanted his attention. Leaning forward she placed her mouth on his neck and blew a raspberry against his skin. Henry jerked his body straight and dropped the controller.

“Knock it the fuck off,” he snapped. He shot a glare at her over his shoulder. “Ya hard of hearin’?”

Evelyn pouted, “I thought you came over here to spend time with me. So far ya haven’t.” He only said a few words to her upon settling himself on her bed; _get me a drink._

“Don’t remember saying that. Do remember telling you not to be all over me though.” Henry retrieved the controller from the floor, cussing Evelyn as his character was killed off. His lady was needy; it drove him crazy.

“Oh good, you died. Guess that means you can play with me now.” Evelyn wrapped her slender arms around him and buried her face into his hair.

Henry snorted in laughter, restarting the game. “The fuck you say.” A burst of warm breath sent his hair into an even bigger mess; she huffed again.

“Can I at least give ya a blowie?”

Henry shrugged, “Be my guest.” Who was he to deny his lady the attention she craved.


	3. Once in a Blue Moon

Vanilla sex with Henry was deliciously carnal; unspoken and unlike anything else the content ginger had ever experienced. Evelyn couldn’t describe it – tender perhaps. Henry was anything but that. Yet, under the wrong circumstances he could be. It usually took his crazy father beating him to draw out the weakness; an emotion Evelyn didn’t believe suit him.

Since the moment she first met Henry Bowers, tender was not a word she would use to describe him. It made their relationship a challenge, but one she thought was worth the effort. Looking at him now, curled up on his side – a broken mess – Evelyn wasn’t sure he ever was strong. She laid next to him under her floral duvet and stroked her fingers through the strands of unkept blonde hair on her pillow. His back was to her; bare skin marred in nasty welts from the petty lashing he received. The details were unclear, especially when Henry tried to explain them to her after the argument with his father. His voice was coarse, more so than usual and defeated. It was all so very hard to swallow.

Evelyn asked him to stay over; Henry was hesitant, but her soft lips moving against his easily won him over. Things will get better for you, baby. I’ll be here, she assured him. She didn’t really know to help, but pity wasn’t something Henry cared much for. They had sex; he kept her on his lap and pushed into her no harder than he could take – Evelyn played with his windswept hair and kissed him whenever he curled up his nose in discomfort. Neither of them finished satisfied, but no comments were made.

By the time they laid down – after Evelyn insisted he smear an antibiotic onto his wounds – it was a little passed twelve o'clock. The radio was quietly playing True Colors, merging beautifully into the 2nd verse with lines that Evelyn could only describe as dry. She hated the ill feeling it brought to her. Heated tears distorted her site as she cried silently. It was pathetic; she wasn’t the one hurting. Evelyn wanted to wrap her arms around Henry and sob loudly into his back. Instead she sat up and crawled to the edge of the bed. She wasn’t sure if Henry was asleep, but she tried to be as quiet as possible while moving towards the door. Yet, her foot connected with the leg of the bed and she swore at her lack of graceful slinking. For fuck’s sake. Shut up. Her eyes went to the figure on her bed; he couldn’t have been asleep. Evelyn saw his foot moving beneath the warm blanket.

“Can’t sleep either,” she whispered, sitting at the end of the bed. Her voice sounded weak.

Henry snorted, “No shit. That stuff ya gave me ain’t helpin’ any.”

“All I got, baby. Just gonna have to let it do it’s job.” Evelyn felt worthless. Even more so when Henry grunted as he rolled onto his stomach. She huffed a tired sigh and moved back to her side, curling up beneath the duvet. The urge to cry had passed on – for now. “Had to pee, but it went away.” Henry rolled his eyes; her room was gloomy but she saw it.

“Don’t go pissin’ yerself, dork.”

Love you too, she almost said. Instead she gently laughed. Her smile just as quickly faded. “Promise me you’ll be okay. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.” Evelyn was sugar coating her words a bit, but with Henry she had to.

Henry resisted the urge to call her a name and tossed his arm lazily over her bare hips, rubbing circles into her skin. She was soft and warm; something Henry enjoyed about her. “Whatever makes ya feel better, baby.” This way, he wouldn’t have to lie.


End file.
